I, Uchiha, will not be whitewashed!

The glint of the blade in the sunlight lasted for less than half a second.

The attacker had a thin, straight line across his neck, running from left to right.

He looked down at his hands; the kunai was still there, stained with another person's blood.

He tried to turn around to see who was behind him, but his neck wouldn't obey him.

Blood gushed from that line, he knelt down, and then collapsed.

The other two attackers retreated simultaneously.

They looked at the person who had suddenly appeared—long black hair, the iconic face of the Uchiha clan, and three-tomoe Sharingan eyes that slowly rotated in the sunlight, like three burning black suns.

He stood in front of Shuoge, the tip of his knife pointing downwards, blood dripping from the blade onto the muddy ground.

"Uchiha... Jonin?" One of the attackers' voices changed.

"Three-tomoe jade..." The other's lips trembled.

The Uchiha Jonin did not answer.

He just stood there, like a wall, like a tree, like something insurmountable.

The Sharingan with its three tomoe stared coldly at the two people in front of it. There was no anger or killing intent in its eyes, only a calm and unquestionable declaration—move once and you die.

The two attackers exchanged a glance.

Then they turned and ran.

They moved even faster than they had come, like two snakes whose tails had been stepped on, desperately burrowing deeper into the woods.

The Uchiha Jonin did not give chase.

He simply stood there, watching the two figures disappear into the bushes, then sheathed his sword. His movements were slow and steady, as if he were doing something he had done many times before.

He turned around and looked down at Shuoge. His gaze lingered on Shuoge for a second—the wound on his ear, the blood on his hand, his still trembling arm. Then he squatted down to be at Shuoge's eye level.

"Are you alright?"

The voice was very calm, as calm as if asking what one ate today.

Shuoge looked at him, at those three-tomoe Sharingan eyes.

He recognized the face—Uchiha Kaze, Kagami's right-hand man and a Jonin in the clan. He had seen this man a few times, at clan meetings, behind Kagami.

But he never knew that this person had been by his side all along.

"Was this arranged by your uncle?"

Shuoge's voice was a little hoarse.

Uchiha Fu didn't answer, but simply reached out and pulled Sakugo up from the ground.

Then he turned and walked towards Kakashi—the silver-haired boy was leaning against a tree trunk, clutching his chest, blood trickling from his lips. Feng crouched down, examined his injuries, and nodded.

"The bones are fine, it's just a superficial injury."

Kakashi looked at him, then at the corpse on the ground, and said nothing. But his eyes changed—not with fear, but with something deeper and more complex.

Feng stood up and glanced at the entire group.

The wounded huddled on stretchers, the routed soldiers squatted on the ground, and the leader, a chuunibyou, was still trembling as he held a kunai.

Everyone was looking at him, at this suddenly appearing Uchiha Jonin, at those three-tomoe Sharingan eyes.

"Keep going." The wind wasn't loud, but everyone heard it. "Reach the next transit camp before dark."

No one moved.

"Walk."

Feng repeated himself, his tone unchanged, but the undeniable pressure made everyone stand up.

The stretchers were lifted again, and the routed soldiers helped each other up, and the ranks began to move again.

Feng walked at the head of the group, sword at his waist, his steps steady. Sakugo and Kakashi walked at the back, both of them moving a little slower than before.

"That person..." Kakashi began.

"Um."

"Has it been there from the very beginning?"

Shuoge was silent for a moment. "It should be."

Kakashi didn't ask any more questions.

He just stared at the back of that figure in front of him, at those three-tomoe Sharingan eyes, and at that sword that still had blood on it.

Then he looked down at his hands.

The tiger's mouth was also cracked, and the blood had dried and formed a dark red scab.

Not strong enough. Still not strong enough.

The group moved forward in silence.

The corpse behind me lay in the middle of the road, its blood having seeped into the soil, turning it dark brown.

In a few days, no one will remember that a single person died here. Just like no one will remember those who died in the war—they're all just numbers, just words on paper.

But Shuoge knew he was not just a number.

At least not today.

-

That night, the group rested in a cave at the foot of a cliff.

The cave is surrounded by rocks on three sides, with only one entrance at the front. The entrance is narrow, allowing only two people to pass side by side. The rock walls on both sides act like two natural stone doors, separating the inside of the cave from the outside world.

When the Chunin leader chose this place, he said, "It's easy to defend but difficult to attack," and then he didn't say anything more.

The wounded were placed in the deepest part of the cave. The retreating soldiers sat against the cave wall; some were already asleep, while others lay awake in the darkness, their thoughts unknown.

A fire was lit at the cave entrance, its light casting a dark red glow on the rock walls, casting shadows that danced across the stones.

Shuoge swung his knife in an open area outside the cave entrance. The blade sliced ​​through the night wind, stroke after stroke, the rhythm never wavering.

But his mind wasn't on the knife.

He was reviewing the situation.

From the moment I applied for early graduation—the graduation assessment involved transporting supplies, the route passing through a border security zone, where a small contingent of Iwagakure troops happened to be waiting. A coincidence.

During their first attack, the people of Iwagakure knew that White Fang's son was in the group, that they should leave him alive, and that they knew the exact route of the supply line.

coincidence.

On the way back, the Root members disguised themselves as ninjas from another country and ambushed him on the only road they could pass. Their target was clear: they were heading straight for him.

coincidence.

Uchiha Kaze happened to be right next to him, appeared at that exact moment, and blocked the fatal blow.

Not a coincidence.

It was arranged by my uncle.

Shuoge paused for a moment, then continued swinging his sword.

He recalled Uchiha Kaze's three-tomoe Sharingan when he appeared, his calm tone when he crouched down and asked, "Are you alright?", and his composed figure as he walked at the front of the group.

That person didn't just happen to pass by; they had been with him from the very beginning.

From the moment I left Konoha, or even earlier.

My uncle has foreseen it.

They anticipated Danzo's attack and foresaw danger along the way, so they dispatched one of the clan's strongest Jonin to protect him. Is a newly graduated Genin really worth a three-tomoe Jonin escorting him the entire way?

No. It's not worth it.

But in my uncle's eyes, every member of the clan deserves it.

Shuoge swung his sword faster and faster, as if chasing something. He remembered the day Jing left—he squatted down to look him in the eye, patted his head, and said, "Don't worry," and "I'm entrusting Shisui to you."

Then he turned and walked into the morning light, his back gilded by the sunlight.

He felt something was wrong back then. That inexplicable unease had been etched into his heart ever since, like a thorn that could never be removed.

But he thought it was just worry, just reluctance, just—he was being too naive.

Shuoge sheathed his sword.

The knife, tip pointing downwards, was stuck in the soil in front of him.

He knelt on one knee, panting heavily, not from exhaustion, but from the increasingly clear thought in his mind, so clear that he couldn't suppress it.

What a coincidence!

Everything was too coincidental.

His graduation exam, the intelligence from Iwagakure, the ambush on the return journey, and the protection from Uchiha Kaze—it was like a game of chess that had been laid out in advance, with every move calculated perfectly.

But the target of this game is not him.

He stood up from the ground, turned around, and walked into the cave.

Uchiha Fu sat inside the cave entrance, leaning against the rock wall, with his eyes closed.

With the knife across his lap and his hand on the hilt, he appeared to be resting, but nothing that passed through the cave entrance escaped his perception.

Shuoge walked up to him and squatted down.

"Uncle Feng".

Feng opened his eyes. His three-tomoe Sharingan slowly rotated in the firelight, then, seeing it was Sakugo, returned to its usual black. "What's wrong?"

"How many people did Uncle take with him on this mission?"

Feng's brow twitched slightly. "Why are you asking this?"

Answer me.

Shuoge's tone was urgent, not like he was making a request, but more like he was confirming something.

Feng paused for a moment, seemingly considering how much to say, "The clan leader should now only have two Jonin left by his side: Uchiha Ken and Uchiha Fugaku."

Two. Only two.

Shuoge's heart sank. "Where are the others?"

Feng didn't answer immediately. He looked at Shuoge, and something in his eyes was changing—not hesitation, but a kind of helplessness after being seen through.

"The clan leader is worried about your mission this time."

The wind whispered, "He sent me to escort you. There are others from the tribe too, sent to keep an eye on other members who might be attacked. The battlefield is dangerous, and the chief doesn't want anything to happen to any of his people."

Shuoge's expression changed.

It didn't change gradually; it happened in an instant—like something exploded in my mind, blasting all the previous fragmented, blurry, and indescribable anxieties into a clear picture.

My uncle sent all the people around him out.

To protect their people.

To protect him.

In order to protect every Uchiha who might be targeted by Danzo.

Only two people remained by his side.

Proverbs and Fujitsu.

Two Jonin are usually enough. But what if Danzo's target isn't his scattered clansmen, or even Uchiha Sakugo himself—but Kagami himself?

Shuoge suddenly stood up.

"Go to your uncle's side."

Feng was stunned. "What?"

"Now, immediately!" Shuoge's voice suddenly rose, echoing in the cave and startling the person sleeping beside him. "My uncle needs you more!"

Feng also stood up and looked at Shuoge. His eyes were no longer calm, but rather showed a kind of shock after being hit where it hurt.

"Danzo's target was not me, nor the other Uchiha clan members."

Shuoge lowered his voice, but every word was like a nail driven into Feng's mind.

"He never intended to kill me in the first place. I was bait. My uncle sent out his people to protect the clan and me—that's what Danzo wanted. He wanted my uncle to be alone."

The wind's pupils suddenly contracted.

There were only two people with my uncle.

Shuoge's voice trembled, not from fear, but from anger.

"Yoshi and Fugaku. There are only two Jonin. If Danzo has arranged enough manpower, and if he has also tampered with Iwagakure—Uncle is in danger."

Feng's lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't.

Shuoge looked into his eyes. "Uncle Feng, you know I'm right."

silence.

The wind stood there, like a tree that had been blown about for a long time, finally cracking. His hands were trembling, very slightly, but Shuoge saw it.

"The chieftain's order..." Feng's voice was hoarse, "He ordered me to protect you."

"Then disobey orders."

Shuoge's voice was very calm, so calm that it didn't sound like that of a six-year-old child.

"Your uncle's life is more important than mine. The Uchiha clan can live without Uchiha Sakugo, but it cannot live without Uchiha Kagami. You know that better than I do."

The wind looked at him, and looked at him for a long time.

Something was churning in those eyes—loyalty, responsibility, fear, and a complex mix of emotions awakened by a child.

Then he reached out and patted Shuoge on the head.

He mirrored the mirror's movements exactly.

"You're just like your uncle, stubborn."

He turned around, walked to the cave entrance, and glanced back.

Be careful.

Then he disappeared into the night.

The cave fell silent again.

The campfire crackled, casting swaying shadows on the rock face.

Kakashi woke up at some point and sat leaning against the cave wall, looking at Sakugo.

He didn't ask what had happened, he just stared at it for a long time.

"The war isn't that serious yet; we'll be able to get back alive." Kakashi overheard Sakugo and Fu's conversation.

Shuoge nodded, without answering.

He walked to the cave entrance, stood there, and looked in the direction the wind had disappeared. The chill of the night seeped in from outside, blowing his hair back. In the distance, there were stars, one by one, dazzlingly bright.

"Uncle, please don't die."

……

……

……

Dusk falls on the border of the Land of Rain.

Uchiha Kagami stood on the hillside, gazing at the clouds in the distance, dyed red by the setting sun. A wind blew from the west, carrying the scent of gunpowder and scorched earth. Footsteps sounded behind him, but he didn't turn around.

"Clan leader, we've made contact with the frontline camp." Uchiha Yan walked over, his voice low. "The main force of Iwagakure is on the northern front, so we're safe here for now."

Kagami nodded. "Where's Fugaku?"

"They're checking the route. He said there's a canyon ahead, and going that way would save half a day."

"A canyon?" Jing frowned slightly. "Too dangerous. Let's take a detour, even if it means spending an extra day."

Yan responded and turned to relay the order. Jing stood still. He watched the setting sun slowly sink below the horizon, the light changing from gold to dark red, like congealed blood.

He always felt that something was wrong.

It's not intuition, it's experience.

The lessons learned from decades of battlefield experience are hard to explain, but they are never wrong.

He sent out all the people around him—Feng went to protect Shuoge, while the others were scattered along the border, keeping an eye on the clansmen who might be targeted by Danzo.

Only Ken and Fugaku remained by his side.

That's enough, he thought.

It's just a journey, not a war.

But he was wrong.

The explosion started from below.

The explosive tags were buried underground, and the chakra was suppressed to the lowest level, so even sensory ninjas couldn't detect them.

When the first explosion rang out, Jing had already drawn his sword—but not for himself, but for Yan beside him.

The kunai flew in from all directions. They weren't ordinary kunai; they were specially made by the Iwagakure Explosives Unit, with explosive tags attached to their tails. They would explode on anything they touched.

"Scatter!" Jing roared.